Today’s Gospel tells the story of three men. One was an enormously wealthy man; in fact he must have been the wealthiest man in the world. He had so much wealth that he had been able to lend a servant of his 10,000 talents. Let’s say that was about 5 billion dollars in today’s money. The servant, who owed his master the 5 billion dollars, had squandered all of it, and couldn’t possibly pay his master back.  So he begged him for mercy. The master, being incredibly wealthy, and also incredibly merciful, agreed to forgive the servant’s debt. That servant, however, who had been forgiven for 5 billion dollars, had loaned $15000 to another servant. No sooner had the first servant been forgiven his debt than he went and found his fellow servant, and in a threatening way told him he’d better pay up, or else. The master caught wind of this, and changed his mind about letting the 5 billion dollar debt go.

This parable is meant to show us the huge disproportion between what God forgives and what we’re called to forgive. That’s not to say that what we forgive others for is nothing. The amount the one servant owed the other was not insignificant. It was about a third of a year’s salary for a typical laborer. But the amount the servant owed the master was so much it would take more than 100,000 years for a laborer to earn it. In other words, people sometimes really hurt us, and when we forgive, that’s really something significant. We’re forgiving real debts. But we also have to keep in mind that what we receive from God - in His forgiveness of all our sins, in His granting us all His mercy, in His giving us the Kingdom of Heaven - this is all so great and so glorious that what we are expected to forgive is tiny by comparison.

Forgiveness, we could say, is one of the most important responsibilities we have as Christians. We have rights, as Christians, but we also have responsibilities. Sometimes in our society we emphasize the rights and forget about the responsibilities. That’s a temptation for us as Christians, too. The Apostle Paul speaks about rights in today’s reading from 1st Corinthians. He talks about the fact that he has a right, like other Apostles and clergy, to expect the church communities to support him. Nevertheless, he does not exercise that right, because he takes his responsibility so seriously. That is, he sees it as his responsibility never to “put an obstacle in the way of the Gospel of Christ.”

So St. Paul’s example is that we don’t invoke all our rights. I could say that it’s my right, if someone slaps me on the cheek, to seek restitution from that person. But the Lord teaches us to turn the other cheek. It’s my right, if offended, to seek justice so that the offense is punished, but the Lord is calling me to forgive. It’s my right to seek an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But the Gospel is calling us to something higher than that. I have a right to eat meat, but if my brother is offended by my meat, says St. Paul, let me no longer eat meat. In other words, we have many rights, but the Lord calls us to take responsibility for our brothers and sisters. It’s not the responsibility of control. It’s not he responsibility of judgment. Rather, it’s the responsibility of love, which says, “let me never put an obstacle in the path of my brother’s salvation.”

A story recounted by St. Nikolai Velimirovich in the Prologue ties these themes of forgiveness and responsibility together. There were two Christians brothers. One day, one of them insulted the other. The one who had been insulted wanted to be reconciled with the other. So he went and knocked on his door, but his brother refused to open the door, cursed at him, and told him to get lost. So the first one left, and he went to a holy man and asked him for advice. The holy man told him, “Although you went to make peace with your brother, the whole way there in your thoughts you were accusing him and justifying yourself. Whenever your brother sins against you, take responsibility for your brother and for the situation, excusing your brother and accusing yourself, and then go to him to make peace.” So the man did this, and he returned to his brother, taking responsibility for the problem, and seeing the good in his brother. And when he arrived at his brother’s house, the brother threw the door open, ran out and embraced him, and peace was restored between them.

It’s important not only to forgive outwardly, but most of all, in our thoughts, and in our heart. And sometimes we have to work hard on our heart and on our thoughts to submit them to God’s will and to bring them to a state of peace, a state where reconciliation is possible. The man who was insulted had the right to hold that against his brother. But he realized that his relationship with his brother and his peace with God was more important than exercising his right, or being “right.” The highest good for us is not to be “right”, but to be forgiven, and to forgive.

It’s not that our Heavenly Father, for His part, is ever unable to forgive, or that He begrudges us that forgiveness. But if we harden our hearts, we simply can’t receive that forgiveness, however much He may want to grant it to us. In that case, we are incapable of benefiting from that forgiveness, and we may have to suffer many things before our heart is softened and we become open to God’s forgiveness again.

May that not be so for any of us, though. May our hearts be soft; may we be quick to forgive. May we care more for our brothers and sisters than we care for being right or exercising our rights. And we will find that, when, God willing, we come to the Kingdom of Heaven, what we were forgiven and what we will receive will be even greater - infinitely greater, more glorious, more wonderful and delightful and beautiful - than we ever imagined or hoped. Amen.